


Hooked on a Feeling

by flootzavut



Series: When Larry Met Freddy [6]
Category: Reservoir Dogs (1992)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canon-typical language, Fix-It, M/M, Masturbation in Shower, Romance, Sex, Showers, Smut, When Larry Met Freddy, almost shower sex, dubiously safe sex, freddy gets fingered, queer, unhealthy relationship dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-17
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-15 05:54:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11224698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flootzavut/pseuds/flootzavut
Summary: They're insane, they must be goddamned stupid, but they're insane together, even if it's also crazy that's a comforting thought.





	1. Chapter 1

* * *

_**Hooked on a Feeling** _

* * *

 

Larry needs a shave, and he'd bet good money Freddy's only got one of those shitty little Bic razors, but in a pinch it'll do. He's gonna have to educate Freddy on the use of a straight razor, teach him how to shave right. No more disposables for his Freddo. In the meantime, he heads for Freddy's bathroom.

It doesn't register until too late that Freddy's in the shower. Then Larry's caught, staring covetously, having to remind himself that for some miraculous reason, this boy is now his.

Still, he has to force himself to, ya know,  _breathe_  and shit. It's not like he hasn't seen Freddy naked already, the last twelve hours have been real illuminating on that front, but naked, soapy and wet, water sluicing down his back? It ain't quite the same. God, he's such a gorgeous thing, Larry still don't get how the fuck he's so damn lucky. He's never wanted anything more in his life than this kid who's taken up residence in his heart and makes his body just fucking... zing.

He watches Freddy's hand move between his buttocks, hisses in a breath because goddamn, that's one fine piece of ass. By no means all Freddy is to him, but he ain't blind. He does not understand why Freddy wants him, he really doesn't, but he's trying real hard not to second guess it.

It takes Larry a minute to realise Freddy's not just having a real thorough wash up, not even just having a little play, but is honest to God fucking his own ass, and suddenly Larry's having trouble breathing again.  _Fucking hell_. He can't believe what he's seeing - he can't believe he didn't know Freddy was in here getting all worked up. He can't believe he's just a few feet away watching as Freddy screws himself senseless. It's like someone picked a thought out of Larry's brain he didn't even know he had and made it come to life right in front of his eyes.

Freddy's not even touching his dick, his other hand is braced against the wall, but Larry can hear, now he's paying attention, that Freddy's moaning, moaning desperately as he pushes hard against his fingers. Larry has wanted to fuck Freddy since they first set eyes on each other, has had all kinds of awkward and inconvenient reactions to the idea, but seeing this about finishes him.

"Fuck." Larry doesn't know what to fucking do with himself. Part of him wants to join in, sure, but that would involve being able to move, and he kinda feels like his legs don't belong to him anymore. And holy fuck, it's just goddamn amazing to watch his beautiful boy getting himself off.

Freddy's hand claws against the tiles like he can barely hold it together, and he makes a noise so sensual and vulnerable, Larry might actually fucking  _weep_. Then Freddy cries out, and his body judders, and he's coming apart, and Larry sinks back against the bathroom door like it was him who came.

He still can't seem to move, can't do anything but watch as Freddy slowly collects himself, rinses himself down, turns off the shower and steps out. Then he sees Larry and stops dead, eyes wide, face flushed with more than just his orgasm when he realises he had an audience.

"Fuck."

Larry laughs, for no reason he could explain. "Fucking hell, kid, if I'da known you were that desperate..."

Freddy blushes harder and laughs back; he's clearly embarrassed, but also genuinely amused. "Fuck. I didn't, uh... didn't see you there." He looks around for a towel, for some modesty, instinctively cupping a hand over his privates, and just as instinctively, Larry steps forward and tugs Freddy's hand away.

"Don't gotta cover yourself up in front of me, baby." Larry's voice is low and husky. "You're beautiful." And now neither of them are laughing.

Freddy's wide-eyed as Larry touches him, running a hand down Freddy's chest, his stomach, and between his legs.

His dick is so fucking pretty even when it's limp and spent. Larry gets ahold of it and caresses it gently. Now he's not half-crazed with lust, he can take his time exploring, touching, fucking playing with it. He ain't been with many uncut guys, he don't really have a comparison, but he'd swear blind Freddy's got the prettiest fucking cock he's ever seen.

Freddy whimpers, head falling against Larry's shoulder. "Larry," he manages, but that's all that comes out.

Larry chuckles. "Beautiful," he says again.

Freddy takes a shuddering breath.

Larry wraps his free arm around Freddy's back, stroking his hand up and down over all that soft skin, and Freddy leans in with the warmth and trust Larry doesn't know how he inspired.

Freddy shivers, and Larry suddenly realises it's not all arousal, that Freddy is fucking cold standing here with water evaporating off of his skin.

"Fuck, kiddo, you shoulda said."

Freddy blinks up at him, and Larry chuckles. Okay, Freddy's body may be cold, but his brain doesn't have a fucking clue. Larry grabs a towel, wraps it around Freddy's shoulders, starts to rub him dry.

It's enough to jolt Freddy back to reality. He takes the towel, embarrassed but smiling, and when Larry grabs another towel and starts to dry his hair, Freddy giggles.  _Fuck_. It's really fucking cute.

Between them, they get Freddy kinda sorta dry, then Freddy wraps the larger towel around his waist, half shy and half coy.

"C'mon," says Larry softly, and leads him back out to the bedroom.

They sit on the edge of Freddy's bed and kiss, leisurely, tender, familiar, like it's been a long time they've been lovers; it should not feel this right to be kissing a cop, a man whose name Larry's only just learned, who he's known for less than a month, but... fuck, it does feel right, it feels fucking perfect, and Larry has no defence against it. He runs his fingers through Freddy's hair, down his spine, and every caress coaxes sighs and whimpers out of Freddy's mouth. Larry loosens the towel, and Freddy lets him, and this kid naked is just fucking glorious to touch.

When they finally draw apart, short of breath, Larry can't seem to open his eyes. This is like jumping from an airplane with no parachute, it's dangerous and crazy and goddamned foolhardy, but also thrilling, and it makes his entire body come alive with terror and excitement.

Freddy presses their foreheads together, and Larry can't help his soft laugh. They're insane, they must be goddamned stupid, but they're insane together, even if it's also crazy that's a comforting thought.

When he finally gets his eyes open, Freddy's watching him, gaze fixed on Larry's face like he's looking for - well, God knows what, 'cause Larry sure as fuck don't have a clue. Freddy's hair is still damp, mussed from Larry's gentle mauling, but it doesn't seem like he's cold anymore, his eyes burning so bright now, Larry's gonna overheat.

"What?" he asks, defensive.

Freddy just grins, slips out of Larry's arms and to the floor, kneels between Larry's legs, runs his hands up Larry's thighs, and reaches for Larry's fly.

"You don't have to, baby," Larry murmurs.

"I want to," Freddy replies simply, and what the hell can Larry even say to that?

Freddy undoes Larry's pants and reaches in with a grin on his face, like he's just fucking ecstatic to be allowed, and no one has ever had quite this much enthusiasm for Larry's dick.

Larry's been rock hard since he walked into the bathroom and found Freddy fingering himself, and Freddy's mouth is a fucking relief. Larry could die happy right this second. "So good, baby," he whispers, "so fucking good to me."

Freddy looks up at Larry with those big eyes as he loves on Larry's cock, slow and thorough, expression so fucking open and earnest, sounds of enjoyment vibrating deliciously against Larry's skin.

Larry don't know shit about body language, but if he was gonna guess, he'd say that look meant... love and desire and fucking adoration, and he's not seen it aimed at him in a long damn while. He don't even think 'Bama looked at him quite like this, and they were- well, too much. More than Larry could deal with, more than Larry knew what to do with, more than Larry could cope with. And he knows - and it scares the shit out of him - that this thing with Freddy is already... more.

It's overwhelming, and it doesn't take long for Larry to shatter into a million pieces, then Freddy's climbing into his lap and putting him back together, and it's so fucking beautiful and scary how natural it all feels as Freddy curls his arms around Larry's neck with a soft sigh.

They don't even kiss again, just sit there together, sharing body heat and breath.

"'M tired, Larry," Freddy mumbles eventually.

Larry remembers Freddy leaping out of bed like his ass was on fire and saying, 'I don't sleep well.' Larry wonders if that was a wild understatement. "'S okay," he whispers. "You can sleep if you need to, Freddo."

Freddy cuddles in closer, his body going slack like he needed permission to relax. Larry wonders again what terrible things are happening in Freddy's head night after night. "I'll take care of you," he promises. "We're gonna be okay."

Larry's still mostly dressed and Freddy's still naked as the day he was born, but Larry lays them down, holds Freddy close, wraps the comforter around them both, and they're asleep in no time at all.


	2. Chapter 2

When Larry wakes up, he finds Freddy snuggled into his chest and tracing the shape of his pecs through his shirt.

"Whatcha doin', Freddo?" he mumbles sleepily.

Freddy startles like he's been caught and shakes his head, turning bright red. "Nothin'."

Larry raises his eyebrows. Freddy buries his face like he's ashamed, and Larry can't resist ruffling his hair. He's a fucking cute little goober.

"Come on, champ, what's bothering you?"

"You're such a... guy," Freddy says, reluctantly.

"That a problem?"

Freddy looks back up, eyes wide. "No, I fucking love it."

Larry laughs. This kid is so fucking weird sometimes. It's really fucking adorable. "Then what the hell are you so fucking embarrassed about, kiddo?"

Freddy doesn't hide his face again, but instead watches his fingers as they continue their trek over Larry's body.

Eventually, he sighs. "Most guys like you, they don't look twice at skinny little fags like me," he says with a shrug, and his quiet acceptance that's just the way life is is the saddest fucking thing Larry can imagine.

"More fool them. Lucky for me."

"Never been... man enough. Not for my dad, not for the guys I liked..." He shrugs. Larry gets the impression Freddy's struggling not to add, 'Not for you.'

Most of the time, Larry can hardly believe Freddy's old enough to fucking well drink, but sometimes he gets this look on his face, like he's seen every fucking awful thing the world has to offer, and seems fucking ancient. It's goddamned heartbreaking.

Larry strokes his hand over Freddy's cheek. "Anyone who told you you ain't a man 'cause of who you are or the things you love or who you wanna be with, they're full of shit. They don't have a fuckin' clue, okay?"

Freddy looks up again. He seems... doubtful and hopeful at the same time.

Larry traces Freddy's lips with his thumb. "You're okay, Freddo. You're okay."

Freddy blinks slowly, and takes a long, deep breath. It's like no one's ever told him that before, simple as it is. Maybe they never did.

Larry would like to get real fucking prejudiced on the guys who treated Freddy so bad. In the meantime, he can at least love on Freddy a lot, try and make up for some of the shit he's had laid on him.

Freddy plucks at Larry's shirt, and Larry laughs.

"You wanna get me naked, sunshine," he says with a wink, "all you gotta do is ask."

"Can I-?"

"'Course."

God. The shy little smile Freddy's been shooting Larry's way since that night in the bar. 'S really fucking adorable. It appears now as Freddy starts in on Larry's buttons, and Larry can't believe he's allowed to touch it like this. The smile widens as Larry strokes at Freddy's bottom lip, then Freddy lays a kiss on the pad of Larry's thumb.

Freddy still seems like he's expecting to be told no, to be stopped, or maybe he's going slow 'cause he thinks Larry's gonna use him and throw him aside and he's trying to make it last. Larry wants to reassure him, but he don't know how, so for now he just lies back and lets Freddy undo his shirt, marvels at how Freddy's unwrapping him like Larry's everything he ever wanted.

Freddy splays his hands over Larry's chest, like he wants to touch as much as possible, then presses his cheek to Larry's breastbone as his hands move down to stroke Larry's stomach. "Fuck," he whispers, almost reverent.

Larry can't imagine ever having too much of this, ever wanting it to stop. Who would willingly give up being fucking _savoured_  this way? He can't say he understands it, but whatever it is about him that makes him 'such a guy' is apparently something Freddy really likes, and Larry ain't complaining.

He's just starting to relax into it, to give in to how much he's being enjoyed, when Freddy's mouth lands unexpectedly on his nipple, hot and wet. "Holy fucking shit." He kind of expects Freddy to have a good laugh at his expense, but when he looks down, Freddy has his eyes screwed shut like he's fucking overcome by the taste of Larry's skin. It's incomprehensible and utterly fucking hot, and Larry twists his hands into Freddy's hair and tugs, because fuck, he needs to feel Freddy's body against his to convince himself this is real.

Freddy lets Larry pull him up until his face is hovering right over Larry's, looks down at him like he's trying to read Larry's mind, then tentatively leans in for a kiss. God, Freddy's mouth is... Larry never wants to fucking well stop kissing him, it's just so fucking good.

When they surface, Freddy sinks into Larry's chest again and buries his face in Larry's neck. "Oh God, I've fucked it all up so bad. What the fuck are we gonna do, Larry? I dunno what to do."

Larry strokes his fingers through Freddy's hair. It's a big fucking mess still, and all Larry wants to do is muss it some more. "We'll figure something out, baby. We will."

Freddy shakes his head. "I'm sorry."

"What the fuck for?"

There's a pause. "Everything."

"Cancel that shit right now. You got nothing to be sorry for." Okay, maybe that's pushing it, far as Larry's concerned, but he has to grudgingly admit that Freddy tried his best not to screw Larry over. Larry hates pigs on principle, but Freddy... well, he's a good kid. "You're okay, it's gonna be okay. We'll work it out."

Freddy's shoulders slump. "I'm such a fucking failure."

"Hey, hey, none of that." Larry rubs the back of Freddy's neck, slow and soothing. "We will figure it out."

There's another long moment of silence. Larry doesn't have a fucking clue where to start, but this... this is good, so they fucking well will work out a way to keep it. Larry's not giving this up for fucking anybody.

"You could tell Joe," Freddy says eventually.

Larry laughs. "Yeah, fucking fantastic idea. He'd fucking kill you. No hesitation. Well no, he'd beat on you a bit first, figure out what you knew. Sounds like fun to you, does it?"

Freddy shrugs a shoulder. "Kinda didn't expect to still be alive," he points out, and it occurs to Larry that he ain't fucking joking.

"Kid," Larry says, his voice suddenly urgent, "I ain't gonna let you tell him."

Freddy looks up at him. "Why not? Make your fucking life a whole fucking lot easier."

"Because-" Ah, fuck it, Larry is bad at this. "'Cause I don't want you dead, you fucking halfwit," is what comes out, which is not exactly how you should ever tell someone that by the way, you're stupid, goofy, fucking upside down in love with them.

Freddy, pretty reasonably, looks kinda hurt. Larry reckons the whole 'not wanting him dead' thing got a bit shot down by the 'fucking halfwit' thing. Larry really isn't good at this, but he has to know Freddy gets it. Screw Joe, Larry couldn't give a fuck about him right now; he needs to make sure Freddy understands.

"Kiddo," he says again, grabbing Freddy's face, "if I'd wanted you dead, I'da fucking killed you myself." Who said romance is dead? Shit. "I mean... fuck, look, I'm not gonna let you tell Joe fucking Cabot you're a cop. No way, period, end of story."

Freddy stares at him, his mouth twisted in confusion, and for a smart kid, sometimes he's really fucking dumb.

Larry pulls Freddy into a kiss, hard and unforgiving, and when they finally draw apart they're both breathing heavily and Freddy looks even more confused than he did before.

"Don't want you fucking dead, Freddo," Larry breathes. "Fucking want you alive, all right?"

Freddy licks his lips, and it's all Larry can do not to get distracted, but this is... this is fucking important.

"I want you alive, okay? You got that?"

Freddy frowns. "Okay," he says, though he doesn't sound all that convinced. "I'm just trying to... keep you safe..."

God, this kid. He's so goddamned sweet, and what he's doing in bed with Larry 'Two Guns' Dimick is anyone's fucking guess. "You know I'm a crook, right?" He strokes Freddy's cheek with his knuckles. "Keeping outta trouble ain't exactly my specialty. But I'm a tough old bastard. I ain't that easy to take down."

Freddy doesn't look reassured. "I could..." He chews on his lip. Sometimes he seems so fucking young. "I can make the LAPD back off," he says finally, in a rush.

That sounds more promising. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." He nods, expression earnest. "If I tell my boss I'm compromised the night before, they'll pull me out, pull out of the whole thing. They won't have any choice, it'll be too late to do anything else. You'll get away clean, they won't be able to touch you, they won't wanna tip Joe off how close they got."

"And what happens to you?"

Freddy frowns. "Guess they'd put me in witsec. 'Cause of Joe. Wouldn't wanna risk him finding out I was a cop." He shrugs, and when he continues, he's back to mumbling. "Get me outta your hair."

 _And I'd never see you again_. "Fuck that."

"But that way, you're safe, you get the diamonds, and I'll be gone."

"Fuck you, you don't get to ruin my fucking life and then fuck off on me."

"What?" Freddy looks genuinely confused.

"Don't want you dead, don't fucking want you gone, you hear me?" Freddy doesn't want that, does he? Doesn't want to never see Larry again? Fuck, if this is Freddy's way of getting away from Larry, Larry might have to kill him after all.

Freddy blinks a couple times. "Why?"

"Jesus H. Christ, kid, are you this fucking dense? I fucking love you."

Okay, that also came out wrong. Larry wants to bury his head in his hands and swear a lot, but fuck, it's out there, it's said.

Freddy's looking at him, eyes wide, searching his face. "What?"

Larry swallows.  _You fucking heard me._  He wants to pretend he didn't say it, 'cause if this is Freddy rejecting him, he'd rather not know. But he's a fucking idiot, and he has to believe Freddy's asking for confirmation, has to hope, because otherwise he's a fool ready to turn his whole fucking life upside down for no good fucking reason. He sighs. "I love you, Freddy," he says, slowly and clearly, watching Freddy's face as he does so.

Freddy blinks a lot, and sucks on his bottom lip. ( _Jesus, kid, are you trying to kill me?_ ) "You don't even know me."

Larry takes a deep breath. Freddy kinda has a point, but on the other hand, he really doesn't. "You said it yourself, kiddo, you only lied to me about the thieving. Got a lot more to you than that." He shrugs. "Anyway, you think I don't know this is fucking insane? Don't make any difference. I'm old enough to know when I'm in over my head. May be fucking stupid for it, but I love you."

Freddy looks at him for long, long seconds, then, thank fuck, starts to smile. "You do?"

"That really so fucking surprising?"

Freddy's smile lights up his whole face, which is like watching the fucking sun rise (and Larry don't do sentimental shit like that, but it's fucking true, okay?), then he lets himself collapse down into Larry's chest and starts to giggle.

Freddy's laughter. Larry's never gonna fucking well get over that. It's so goddamned free and easy, so fucking innocent somehow, and it's just too goddamned cute. Larry could listen to it for-fucking-ever.

Though honestly, right now Larry wants a better fucking response than laughter. "Freddo?" He rubs at Freddy's shoulder and neck.

Freddy hiccups himself into being able to speak, though there's still a thread of laughter in his voice. "I fucking love you too, Larry," he manages, nuzzling the words into Larry's throat, and Larry didn't know how scared he was until relief crashes over him in a wave. "I really fucking love you, you stupid son of a bitch."

It's Larry's turn to laugh. "What a stupid pair of fuckers, huh?"

Freddy nods and starts giggling again, and they laugh together like the assholes they are, and Larry hasn't felt this fucking great in years. He buries his face in Freddy's hair and breathes deeply, and the only thing spoiling this moment is that Larry can't shake the fear of losing him. He pulls Freddy in tighter. How is this kid so hell-bent on keeping him safe no matter the cost? Freddy must be crazy for caring so goddamned much. Larry cannot figure him out.

God, suppose Larry had let his anger get the best of him last night? He's killed cops before, without even thinking about it, without remorse or regret. He shoulda been able to do it, he shouldn't care, but the knowledge of how easy it woulda been to pull that trigger is making him feel like he's gonna fucking well throw up. Does Freddy know how close he came to a messy, bloody death?

Freddy offering to let him tell Joe also makes his stomach roil. Does Freddy have any instinct for self-preservation? It sure don't fucking seem like it. It's like he's trying to get himself dead, and that's fucking terrifying.

Hell, Freddy's naked in bed with a known fucking cop killer, does he even realise? He knew Larry's name, so he's gotta know Larry's reputation. Sure, apart from those few charged moments with his gun wedged under Freddy's jaw, Larry's had no plans to do anything but fucking well protect and look out for him this whole time, 'cause he's a besotted fool, but Jesus, Freddy didn't know that yesterday.

"Freddo?"

"Mmhm?"

"I almost fucking killed you last night," he admits.

Freddy nods, like that isn't fucking appalling.

"I almost painted your brains over your fucking kitchen wall, kid, are you hearing me?"

Freddy nods again. "I know."

It occurs to Larry him that maybe Freddy really does realise, really did realise, and fuck, what... what does that even mean? Did Freddy... did Freddy expect to die last night? Like... really, not just saying it? Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Larry cannot process this. Freddy said the words, said 'I love you,' and part of Larry honestly still didn't believe it. But this...

"Freddy, why'd you do it?" The question is... urgent. He has to make sense of it. "Why'd you do it when you knew I had a gun on me? When I coulda just blown you away?"

Freddy shrugs. "I didn't want you to get caught or... or die," he says.

"And your solution was to let me fucking kill you instead?" Larry's horrified and almost fascinated, and can't actually believe he's understanding right.

Another shrug. "Didn't know what else to do. Least I knew you'd be okay."

"Fucking hell, kid." Larry can't find the words, can hardly speak past the tightness in his throat. Freddy told him, knowing how he might react. Freddy told him, knowing Larry might kill him.  _Expecting_  Larry to kill him. And in Freddy's mind, that was preferable to putting Larry away.

(And good God. He thought Larry would be  _okay_? Larry would've never been okay again if he'd... even in the midst of his anger, he couldn't deal, couldn't do it. How he woulda felt after if he'd gone through with it... his stomach lurches. He don't wanna think about it.)

If Larry has got this straight in his head, then he can't decide if Freddy is an angel or an actual fucking idiot. But either way, Larry's sure no one's ever cared this much about his worthless hide.

He strokes Freddy's hair again. How does he explain? How does he point out that Freddy's not fucking allowed to die, all right?

He lifts Freddy's head up to kiss him softly, with all the gentleness he can muster. "Look, you can't die on me, Freddo," he murmurs. "Won't let ya."

Freddy blinks a few times. "Okay," he says eventually.

"Seriously. I... I fucking need you, kid."

It's not easy to say - it's actually terrifying. Larry Dimick don't need nobody, that's the fucking  _point_. But it's not true anymore, and Freddy needs to know. He fucking well deserves to know.

"You do?"

Larry nods. "Yeah," he breathes. He brushes Freddy's hair back from his face. "Lemme show ya."

Words? He ain't so good at. Actions... them he can do.


	3. Chapter 3

Larry's pants are still undone from Freddy sucking him, and when Larry starts to push them down, he's not very surprised that Freddy eagerly takes over. Larry shrugs his shirt off his shoulders and marvels at how Freddy looks at him, how Freddy's practically bouncing once Larry's naked, how he throws himself eagerly into Larry's arms. Larry is more than happy to catch, even if he still doesn't understand the how or why of it.

They kiss hard. Larry smooths his hands down Freddy's back, cups his ass, teasingly spreads his buttocks and tickles him with one finger, laughs aloud when Freddy gasps and begs and shudders deliciously.

"You want, baby?"

Freddy whines. "Please!"

Well, fuck. Larry's rarely known anyone so eager for it. Freddy pushes against his touch and lets out a quiet stream of profanity that Larry himself would be proud of, then scrabbles at his nightstand and presses a bottle of lube into Larry's hand.  _Horny little motherfucker_.

Larry laughs again, pulls Freddy into another kiss, then gently tips him into a floppy pile of limbs and hair on the bed. Freddy looks up at him, fuzzy and confused, but as soon as Larry strokes a hand over his waist and downward, he relaxes into the mattress, his eyes closing and his face melting into a smile.

He's gorgeous, and that really is one fine fucking ass. Larry shakes his head. Ever since Freddy climbed into his lap and kissed him last night, he's been expecting any second to wake up and discover it was all a dream, but damn, he's not sure his imagination is this good.

He bends over to lay a trail of hot, wet, open-mouthed kisses down Freddy's spine, and laughs at how Freddy wriggles and whimpers and begs. Larry's gonna make damn sure this is good for his boy, but God, he's gonna have fun, too.

Freddy lets out a sound that's mingled surprise and pleasure when Larry licks up his crack, then groans deep and desperate when Larry laps at his ass. He tastes of soap and man, and he writhes and makes wonderfully indecent noises as Larry loves on him, gasping and swearing in a way that makes Larry think Freddy's never had someone do this for him before. Larry takes his time, going slow and thorough, savouring the flavour, the way it's making Freddy come apart, the sheer intimacy of it.  _Mine_ , he can't help thinking,  _all fucking mine_.

When Freddy's good and desperate, Larry leaves one last lingering lick, then starts circling with his finger again, adding lube and pushing gently at the muscle. He kisses Freddy's buttocks, because seriously, this kid's  _ass_ , then mouths his way up Freddy's back and stretches himself out along Freddy's side.

"All right, Freddo?" he breathes.

Freddy lets out a wavery noise as Larry's finger slips into him at last. Musta been a while. He's pretty tight, even after what he got up to in the shower. "Fuck, Larry," he manages, "oh, fuck."

He quivers, staring at Larry like he's a fucking prophet or something, then sucks on his lip, which makes Larry need to suck on his lip, and they kiss for a while as Larry loosens him up slow and gentle. Freddy sighs and moans and whimpers into Larry's mouth, moving against Larry's fingers, eager and desperate and wanting.

By the time Larry has three fingers slowly moving in and out, Freddy is practically sobbing with pleasure and need. It's kind of intoxicating how much Freddy wants it; Larry could get used to this.

"Oh God, Larry, please. Need your dick, man."

Larry chuckles. Turns out he wasn't wrong about Freddy being a cock slut. "Yeah?"

"Please, Larry. Want it so bad."

"Well, when you ask so pretty-like, how can I refuse?"

Freddy makes a noise that sounds like relief and desire combined, then he surges up to kiss Larry even deeper than before and murmurs, "Fuck me hard, Larry," into his mouth.

Larry laughs, a little breathless. God, this kid.

He rolls over to look in Freddy's nightstand (Freddy whines in protest when Larry's fingers slip out of his ass, the needy bugger), and sure enough, finds condoms in the drawer Freddy left open.

Freddy watches, wide-eyed, as Larry rolls one onto his dick and slicks it up with still more lube, but he doesn't move to do anything about it.

"Come on, then," says Larry. "What're you waiting for, a formal invitation?"

Freddy looks confused for a moment, then his eyes go even wider as he realises what Larry means.

"You want me to ride you?"

Larry cocks an eyebrow. "That a problem?"

Freddy shakes his head vehemently. "Fuck, I just... shit, man. I thought you'd wanna... I dunno."

Larry wonders if anyone ever treated this kid right. "You done it before?"

Freddy goes scarlet. "Once," he says, in an incredibly small voice.

"Did you like it?"

"Yeah," Freddy breathes, his tone reverent. "I... it was fucking amazing."

"But you only did it once?"

Freddy looks away, ashamed and embarrassed.

"Ah, Freddo." It's not hard to imagine. Freddy's not exactly got the confidence to ask for what he wants, let alone demand it. He's got no fucking clue he's gorgeous, and life among pigs is a shitty situation for a queer kid. He probably took what he was given and was grateful.

Larry wonders if anyone's ever fucked him right, and he's caught between sadness how Freddy's obviously been treated poorly by lovers not worthy of the name, and the thrill of realising he gets to teach Freddy how great this can be. He's gonna blow Freddy's mind.

"Well, come on, then," he says more gently. "I ain't going nowhere, but your ass ain't gonna fuck itself."

Freddy laughs, high and nervous.

"Don't gotta be scared, kiddo. 'S gonna be great."

Freddy nods, swallows so hard Larry can hear it, then crawls over and straddles Larry's body, wrapping his hand around Larry's cock and getting himself lined up right. He's so painfully eager, like he's afraid he'll miss out if he doesn't get on with it right away, his movements jerky and desperate. "Fuck," he manages, pushing himself down hard, like he's just gotta get it in there, "oh fuck, Larry, oh God." He hisses like it hurts, and Larry grabs his hips.

"Hey, hey. No rush, baby." Freddy blinks down at him, and Larry smiles. "You take as long as you need."

More blinking. "Really?"

It breaks Larry's heart Freddy even has to to ask. He could fucking  _kill_  whoever mistreated his boy so bad. "Really. Fucking hell, Freddo, I wanna make you scream, but I sure as fuck don't wanna hurt ya."

"Oh," he says, then, "Okay." A smile blooms. "Right."

Freddy moves more slowly this time, more carefully, with more confidence, teasing himself for a moment on Larry's dick, then swallowing before he gets back in position. This time, he pushes down firm but gentle, controlled, letting out a breath, and they both groan as his body gives in. Larry's cock is thicker than a few fingers, but he worked Freddy good, and the remaining stretch is just right for them both.

"Fuck, baby." Larry involuntarily closes his eyes for a second. It takes an effort to peel them back open, but he needs to watch. He's been waiting for this forever.

Freddy laughs softly, then moans. His mouth falls open and his head falls back, and he looks so surrendered as he eases himself down onto Larry's dick. He takes it slow, no rush but no hesitation; he knows exactly what he wants, knows how to take it all. It's the first time Larry's really seen him move with this kind of surety and certainty. It's goddamned beautiful, and Larry can't believe this is in any way his doing, let alone that his cock in Freddy's ass has Freddy practically glowing.

"Goddamn, Freddo."

Freddy laughs again, and it turns into a groan as he takes Larry deeper. "So good," he whispers.

Larry thinks this might be the single most erotic thing he's seen his entire fucking life. He reaches up to trace his fingers over Freddy's chest, to circle his nipples, to skim over his rib cage, and Freddy shivers at his touch.

"Oh God, Larry. Oh God," he breathes as he pushes home, their bodies now flush. "Fuck, Larry." Freddy wriggles, gasps, grins, his eyes dark as he looks down. "God, 's amazing. You're so thick."

"Like that, don't ya?"

"Fucking love it." Freddy giggles.

"Dirty little fucker, eh?" Larry can't keep his amusement and affection out of his voice.

Freddy grins again, wide and bright and so damn happy, and it makes Larry feel like his heart's gonna fucking well burst. Then Freddy starts to move, and good God, this might actually kill Larry, but what a fucking glorious way to go.

"Ah, fuck," says Freddy. "Fuck, man."

Larry strokes Freddy's hair back from his forehead, then cups his cheeks. Freddy's damp and hot with arousal and exertion, and he nuzzles into Larry's touch. Larry still can't believe this is real. "Gorgeous," he murmurs, "so fuckin' gorgeous you are, my beautiful boy."

Freddy doesn't reply, just continues to move, his eyes fixed on Larry's, looking like he's having as much trouble believing this is real as Larry is, then collapses forward into Larry's chest and whimpers. "Oh God, Larry. I love you, Larry." His hips pump and pump, and his breathing is deep and heavy against Larry's neck.

"So good, baby. So good." Larry meets each thrust and digs his fingers into Freddy's ass, and fuck, Larry wants this kid so bad in every fucking way. "Love you, Freddo." He reaches between them and wraps his hand around Freddy's dick. "Wanna... God, want you to fuck me too, okay? Will you fuck me with this beautiful dick, Freddo?"

Freddy moans at the thought of it. "Fuck. Yes."

"Good. Good boy." Larry's voice is rough, he can't help it. "Gonna fuck my ass so hard and sweet. Gonna give it to me good. Can't fuckin' wait."

Freddy whimpers again, reaches for a kiss, and it's soft even as Freddy screws himself stupid, and Larry's overwhelmed. He's not sure he can hold on much longer, then Freddy's shuddering, his ass squeezes Larry's cock, and Larry is glad to give in and let go, his body jolting as he comes. "Oh baby, so good, baby," he murmurs against Freddy's lips, and Freddy laughs breathlessly, and they're a tangle of arms and legs as they both shake and shiver with pleasure.

Afterward, they lie there together, the only noise their laboured breaths gradually slowing back down. Larry's heart is beating like a drum, like it's fucking ready to explode, and Freddy rests his head on Larry's chest like he just wants to listen for it, listen to the life throbbing in Larry's body.

"Oh fuck, Larry," he says eventually, "I really fucking love you, man."

Larry laughs. He feels lighter and happier than he has in a long, long time. They will figure this out, one way or another; they'll work out how to survive without Joe or the LAPD or Larry's own past screwing things up. And then they'll go find somewhere he and his boy can spend the rest of their fucking lives just being really fucking happy.

_~ fin ~_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is love. (Especially when my muse has been brainwashed by Tim Roth and I can't seem to stop writing _really_ smutty smut...) *puppydog eyes* ❤️


End file.
